Silent Desires (Shattered Silence Duet Book 1)
Silent Desires: Chapter 23

There’s always a small amount of relief when I get to my driveway with time to spare, knowing I will avoid at least one of my mother’s possible triggers. I don’t see Jeff’s car, so I hope that means he’s not here right now. I only know what his car looks like because I ran past it in the driveway when he tried to touch me this morning. Was that only this morning? It feels like so much has happened today.

Checking again to make sure I don’t see his car parked on the road I take a deep breath to steady my racing heart. Sometimes it’s better if my mother has company as it keeps her distracted, but sometimes it just means there are two of them to gang up on me. It all depends on what sort of mood they were in. And there is no way for me to know until I see them.

I stare at the front door for a moment before taking a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever’s waiting for me inside. I reach for the handle and tentatively push the door open, my eyes searching for signs of life. Silence greets me, but I know not to let my guard down yet. As excited as I am to get downstairs and spend the weekend texting my friends, I have to get through the kitchen first.

As I walk into the kitchen, I see my mother’s glare turn from annoyed to furious as she looks me over.

“WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!” she hisses, pointing at my chest. Glancing down, I see my mistake, I’m still wearing Jasper’s hoodie. Oh no. I instantly know how bad this will look to her as fear floods my body.

I can’t believe I forgot to take it off. But it’s so comfortable, and I’ve been wearing it all day—I just forgot. What a stupid mistake. My body starts to shake as I watch her face grow red with anger and I realize I’m going to pay for this.

“You either stole it or someone gave it to you, even after I told you to keep your head down!” she screeches as spit flies from her mouth. “I knew that fucking demon was strong in you! Do you understand now? Disobeying me shows how your soul’s been tainted. You’ve forced my hand here, Mina. I hope you realize that. I don’t want to punish you, but I have to teach you that you can’t listen to what that demon says. You. Listen. To. Me!” She punctuates each word with a finger jabbed into my sternum, pushing me backwards as I shake in fear.

She always talks about me being possessed by the devil or a demon, but I’ve never understood what she meant, not really. I don’t feel like something is in me. I’m pretty sure all my actions are my own, and wearing someone else’s sweatshirt doesn’t seem like something a demon would care about. But my mother says it’s the action of disobeying her that has caused her to be mad. I just don’t understand why it’s that big of a deal. Not that thinking that helps ease the fear coursing through my body right now as she stares at me like I’ve stabbed her in the back.

“Now, let’s get this over with. Take your clothes off and lean over the counter.” I swallow the knot that’s formed in my throat. If she wants all my clothes off, it means things are going to get… bloody.

I nervously watch as she opens a drawer and pulls out a black leather belt. The same one she used on my stomach last week. I don’t think I’ll be getting away so easily this time though.

“Don’t make me ask you twice,” she says calmly as she slides the belt through her fingers. Taking a deep breath, I force myself to keep it together a little longer. I can do this. This isn’t my first lashing, and it won’t be the last.

After stripping down to my underwear and bandage bra, I shove my clothes in my bag for an easy escape later and lean over the counter, trying to think of some way to distract myself. I won’t have to stay in this house forever. As soon as I figure out a way to get a job, I’ll be out of here. I just wish I could replace it in me to fully trust the guys. I have a feeling they could help me replace a job and get somewhere safe. But I’m afraid she’ll come after me wherever I go. As much as she hates me, I think she loves torturing me more. And I wouldn’t want to put the guys in any danger from her. She’d probably try to charge them with child abduction or some nonsense like that. It’s not like I have my birth certificate to prove my age.

The first crack of the belt against my back steals my breath, the sharp sting blooming into a fiery ache that spreads across my skin. I’d forgotten how much this hurts. Before I can recover, three more lashes follow in quick succession. Each strike feels like lightning searing through me, leaving behind trails of heat and pain that overlap until I can’t tell where one ends and the next begins. I clench my jaw, determined not to cry out, but the force of it drives tears from my eyes, anyway.

The lashing isn’t just punishing my body—it’s stripping away my defenses, layer by layer. I feel the welt rising, the angry heat a constant reminder of my vulnerability. It isn’t just pain—it’s humiliation, anger, and helplessness, all tangled together in the rhythm of the blows. My heart races, every strike feeling like an eternity, until the world blurs into a haze of raw nerves and ragged breathing.

I lose my standing as I fall to the floor in a heap and hold my breath, waiting for more. But when nothing happens after a minute, I release my breath slowly. Only five tonight. I can handle that. Of course, my mother probably doesn’t want to give me too many lashes, or I won’t be able to hide them at school.

A sharp pain in my side jolts me back to the moment—my mother just kicked me. That’s always how she ends her beatings if I fall to the floor. It’s her way of trying to push me over the edge and make me feel like the trash she thinks I am. And it works. I feel helpless, humiliated and completely worthless.

“Get out of here. You have five minutes to use the bathroom,” she says calmly as I hear her shut the drawer, the belt disappearing from sight.

I slowly pull myself to my feet, knowing my mother won’t give me any extra time to tend to the lashes on my back before she drags me to the basement to lock me in for the night.

I’m not sure how much more abuse I can take from her. But what if she’s right? What if I do have a demon inside me and I deserve all of this? Running would only make it worse. After all, you can’t run from yourself.